


flavor physics

by mostverklempt



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), blackinnon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:02:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27611090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mostverklempt/pseuds/mostverklempt
Summary: When Marlene McKinnon catches her philandering boyfriend snogging his Potions partner at the Marauders' end-of-the-year rager, she reluctantly enlists the help of his arch-rival, Sirius Black, to even the playing field. Unfortunately, said arch-rival is the same git who turned her hair into snakes and thinks girls are just a varsity sport he's captain of.
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black/Marlene McKinnon, Sirius Black/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 27





	1. quark down

* * *

**flavor physics  
** _quark down_

* * *

The massive bonfire was riotous and festive, its bright orange flames licking up toward the night sky as if trying to taste the stars. Students of various ages were gathered around it happily, swaying and singing in drunken merriment, celebrating the successful closure of another wily year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Tests were over, assignments were finished, and classes had finally come to a close, which left everyone—particularly the N.E.W.T. and O.W.L. veterans of the school—in a particularly celebratory, if not tad wistful, mood. The result of this nostalgic fervor? An impromptu, unruly party thrown by the seventh year Gryffindors at the Black Lake.

Everyone was going home the following morning—the Express boarded at ten A.M. sharp—so naturally, the Marauders decided, "Why not go home piss-drunk?" Or, at the very least, delightfully hung-over. Hence, halfway through the leisurely day, they sent owls to twenty or so Gryffindors telling them to meet at the Black Lake later that night for a goodbye get-together.

It wasn't meant to be much, just a pack of Lions reminiscing on the good ol' days with a bottle of butterbeer in hand. However, seeing as though the Marauders were involved, word spread—and it spread fast. Friends told their friends, who in turn told _their_ friends, who in turn told their second cousins thrice removed, who in turn told their next-door neighbors…

And now it was midnight and the party was completely out of control. What seemed to be every last Hogwarts student was gathered down by the dewy lakeshore, talking in animated slurs and gesturing with reckless abandon, barely hidden by the impressive network of concealment charms James Potter and Sirius Black had cast over the grounds. Heads were tossed back in wild laughter, girlish shrieks were piercing the air, abandoned bottles of goblin rum and firewhiskey were littered across the floor—all in all, it was chaos.

And standing in the center of it, catastrophically furious and stone-cold sober, was none other than Marlene McKinnon. Her arms were shaking. Her nails were biting into her palms. Her eyes, normally a relatively easy-going coffee brown, were molten, seething—flat-out _livid_.

That. Fucking. _Asshole_.

The scene before her was enough to make her want to strangle the life out of everyone partying merrily around her, just as she had been doing mere minutes ago. Finnegan O'Reilly, her very much now decidedly _ex_ -bloody-boyfriend, was grinding up on his Hufflepuff _bint_ of a Potions partner, Tamara Ryde—or Tammy Give-Me-A-Ryde, as the general Hogwarts population had unfortunately taken to calling her.

Although questionable (Finn was always off working on Potions assignments till the wee hours of the night with her), Marlene would've been more than willing to let the situation slide with little more than a pointed look and a firm yank of the ear if it had just been dancing. Everyone was pretty blasted by this point and thus making stupid decisions.

The fact that he had his hand down her skirt changed things a bit.

"Oh, Finn," Tamara murmured breathily, grinding her hips against his as his left hand disappeared beneath waistband of her skirt. She tossed her head back against his shoulder with a truly horrific moan and he quickly silenced her with his mouth, kissing her sloppily and disgustingly, all tongue and no lips.

Marlene was honestly too enraged, too disgusted, too bloody horrified, to react. It wasn't that she was hurt, really—she'd never been particularly serious about him and had been meaning to break up with him for weeks—but _this_ , the sodding nerve! The flagrancy. The _audacity._

And to think she'd been putting off their breakup to avoid hurting _him_ —what a joke! He'd probably been at it with Tamara for weeks now, shagging in random broom closets whilst she struggled with the guilt of breaking his non-existent heart. Her vision went hazy with rage, cuttingly fixated on the slimy pair, the image branding itself into her brain for eternity.

She had officially been cheated on.

 _Cheated_ on, by some two-bit Irish Slytherin with nothing more to offer than a decent bum and mediocre kissing skills. Merlin, how could she have been so moronic? She knew what he was doing those late nights, she bloody _knew_ it, but she'd been too busy stressing about NEWTs and feeling bad about inevitably dumping him to process it. And to think, people always called her the smart one, the quick wit, the one who saw through all the bullshit— _obviously_ not!

"Mm, Finn, do that thing you did last week with your tongue—"

And that was really all it took for her to snap. Without any attempt at grace and decorum, she marched right up to the scruffy brunette, yanked him around by the shoulder, and swung her furiously clamped fist right into his slimy, drunk, disgusting excuse for a face.

_Crack!_

"Fucking hell!" he cried as he stumbled back a bit, a satisfying gush of blood seeping from his nose. Tamara shrieked in horror, instantly wheeling around to inspect the damage, whereas Marlene merely shook out her throbbing hand with a grimace, trying to appear tough and enraged whilst wincing like the pansy that she was— _Merlin_ , that hurt.

"What is your problem!?" Tamara screeched, rounding on her and staring at her as if _she_ were the bad guy, but Finn seemed to have gathered his bearings enough to intervene, holding a hand out to fend the girl off.

"Marly," he began, pleading look in his bleary eyes as blood dribbled down his chin, "love, I can explain—"

This was enough to make her forget all about the pain in her hand, and her anger flared tenfold. "Oh, no, don't worry; I understand," she growled viciously. "You were just working on Potions, right?"

"It's not like that!"

"No, you're right—it's like _this_." And without warning, she punched him in the nose yet again, rearing her arm back further to pack more force into the blow and immediately wincing upon contact—hot _damn_. That looked so painless in the movies!

"Bloody _shit_!" Finn cried, hands instantly flying to his nose as he staggered back in pain, and a few rowdy spectators started cheering. Tamara was instantly at his side, hysterical and useless, and his eyes cut up to Marlene's with wide-eyed resentment. "You are such a fucking _bitch_!"

She merely scowled at his muffled cry, giving him a final disgusted onceover before turning on her heel and storming off. She was dying to add something badass and memorable like 'And don't you forget it' over her shoulder, but she knew herself well enough to know she couldn't pull it off.

Hence, hand throbbing more than she'd like to admit and anger still pretty much full-blown, she made her way through the gyrating crowd, headed toward the old oak tree off to the side of the lake. It was a good distance away from the bonfire, shadowed and somewhat hidden from the party raging beside it, and a small, rather exclusive smattering of students was gathered beneath it, relaxing and having their own good time.

To think, that had been her not five minutes ago. "Lily!" she called out as she neared the group, eyes skimming over the various sprawled out forms for a tumble of scarlet hair. Remus Lupin was lying on his back, arms crossed beneath his head, smiling in his dry-as-ash way at something James was saying as he stared up at the night sky. Emmeline Vance was draped perpendicular to him, head propped up comfortably against the side of his chest, laughing as she took a swig of her butterbeer.

Peter Pettigrew was sitting cross-legged on the grass, guitar in hand, strumming a vaguely familiar melody and looking somewhat lost in thought. James, on the other hand, was gesturing about enthusiastically, eyes cutting about to everyone's faces, expression wild and dramatic—undoubtedly in the middle of a harrowing story. He was lounging back against the trunk of the tree, firewhiskey in hand, arms casually draped around the waist of the pretty redhead nestled between his legs.

"Lil," Marlene repeated upon spotting her, and a few pairs of eyes turned to meet hers—one of them a bespectacled, charismatic hazel.

"And she returns!" James announced with a wry grin, having abandoned his story at the sight of her. "Finally come to your senses and realized O'Reilly's a prize idiot, have you?" It was no secret that James and Finn didn't get along.

"I just punched him in the face twice, if that answers your question," she responded without hesitation, and this time all eyes snapped over to her.

"What?" Lily gasped, followed by James' guffaw of delight and Emmeline's choke of laughter. "You didn't!"

"Oh, but I did," Marlene replied, once again shaking out her hand to ease the throbbing and fighting back a wince, "and it hurt like hell."

Emmeline lapsed into a bright laugh, ever the bubbly one. "But… _why_!?"

James snorted. "Because he's a piece of Hippogriff shit?"

Lily elbowed him irritably, scrambling out of his hold so that she could eye Marlene in that rapt way of hers that mildly terrified her. "What did he do?" she demanded.

"I think you mean who," she replied, attempting to keep the anger from her voice and failing miserably.

Lily's eyes went wide, and then cut into sharp slits mere moments later. "Hold on a moment. You'd better not be talking about…"

"Oh, but I am."

"No!"

"Yes."

"Give-Me-A-Ry—!"

"Yep."

"No!"

"Dead serious."

Lily's face flushed a dangerous color, and little electrical spitfires seemed to spark off head as she pushed herself to her feet and hissed, "I'm going to kill them _both_." And before anyone could even think to stop her, she was off, charging toward the party, vibrant hair billowing behind her like a literal red flag of warning.

James watched her go with a rumpled expression, head cocked to the side, adorably perplexed. He then shot a glance at Remus. "Moony?"

"I got nothing," Remus shrugged. "Wormtail?"

"PMS?" the shorter boy offered.

Emmeline shook her head, laughing. "Boys. So dim. Basically, Marlene's class A troll of a boyfriend—"

"Ex," the brunette cut in darkly.

"—was having it off to the side with Tamara Ryde, and Lily's pissed because she has a history of going after other girls' boyfriends." She paused for a moment and turned to Marlene, cheeriness melting into heartfelt concern with shocking speed. "Are you okay, Mar?"

That was the thing about Emmeline Vance—she wore her emotions on her sleeve to such a degree that people always thought she was being fake. She could go from thoroughly depressed to excited about a new pair of shoes in less than two seconds, and when you didn't know her well, you were a bit blindsided by the shifts. The fact that she was pretty, blonde, and unrelentingly bubbly didn't help her case, either.

Really, she was one of the most refreshingly genuine people Marlene had ever met. She wasn't as good of friends with her as she was with Lily, but they were fairly close nonetheless. This was partly due to the fact that, despite Lily's insistence on the contrary, Marlene had written her off as an insincere flake like everyone else had for a quite long time, and it wasn't until fifth year that she'd really started getting to know her.

And now here they were, the final night of their seventh year, great—if not quite best—friends.

"Yeah, you alright, love?" Remus also asked, propping himself up on his elbows to eye her more thoroughly. He was the polar opposite of Emmeline—subtle, guarded emotions, shadowed eyes, and a cautionary layer of cynicism that he draped over any of his vulnerabilities. "O'Reilly's a tosser and a half—don't let him get to you."

"Not worth a single neuron," James agreed, swinging his bottle up in toast, and Peter lifted his own drink in accordance, promptly downing it afterwards.

"I'm fine, really," Marlene replied, and it was mostly the truth. A large part of her was still pretty furious, a medium part of her felt the blow to her pride, and a small, tiny, buried part of her felt the slightest bit—she'd grudgingly admit it—hurt. Sure, Finn was a smarmy sleaze and a pretty lousy snog, but he'd still been her boyfriend for three months. Most of her friends didn't like him too much, but hey—he was pretty to look at and he added a bit of spice to her life.

He'd never been the world's best conversationalist, and when it came to brains, he wasn't the brightest _lumos_ in the class, but he was just so spectacularly different from any guy who'd expressed interest in her in the past that it'd made him weirdly appealing. Every boy in her life aside from Finn had been a to-the-bloody-T Ravenclaw. Studious, ambitious, literary, smug—the kind of bloke that debated advanced Charms theory over breakfast and thought they were Merlin's gift to academics.

It got annoying very quickly. Thus, when Finn came along, all one-track-minded and stereotypical-Irish-bad-boy sexy, the contrast charmed her. When she mentioned Hemingway, he asked if it was a band. When she'd make a tasteless joke, he'd laugh instead of getting all patronizing and unamused. She didn't have to be the intellectual 24/7; she could be the idiotic four-year-old, too.

Though, truth be told, she could only be the idiotic four-year-old with Finn. Her drier comments always flew right over his head, and any literary or political references were guaranteed to elude him.

Christ, what had she been thinking?

"…it mental that I find her homicidal tendencies sexy?" James was asking as she tuned back into the conversation, brow furrowed. "I mean, it's really getting to be a problem—she'll get cross with me and we'll get into a row, but instead of fighting back, I just snog her, and then she gets even angrier. What am I supposed to do?"

"Picture your nana?" Peter offered, plucking out a nostalgic melody.

"Stop pissing her off in the first place?" Remus tossed out.

"Just snog her harder, mate."

The new voice drew Marlene's gaze over her shoulder, and a flat look descended over her face as a tall, dark-haired boy waltzed into view—cocky, self-indulgent, and resplendently handsome. He cracked a wolfish grin as he grabbed another firewhiskey from the cooler, deftly cracking the top off with his teeth and spitting it out. "Get her all hot and bothered till she forgets what she was angry about." He waggled his eyebrows as he took a large swig from the bottle, drawing a large grin from James.

"See? Sirius understands me," he proclaimed, motioning toward the tall boy. "I can always count on you for moral support, mate."

Remus scoffed. "Because Padfoot's just the epitome of morality."

"I happen to be exceedingly moral, Remus."

Peter snorted at this, glancing up from his guitar. "Did you come to that conclusion before or after you two-timed the Parkinson twins for a month?"

"Dos months," James corrected, holding up two fingers.

"During Christmas," Remus added darkly.

"I have very little memory of the holidays," Sirius offered whimsically, taking another swig of firewhiskey. "This party's absolutely mental, by the way—you lot should see it for yourselves instead of being all exclusive and antisocial. Everybody's piss drunk, and some of the girls are making delightfully bad decisions…"

Peter perked up like a bloke who only ever got any when girls were making 'delightfully bad decisions'. "Really? How bad?"

Sirius's stare grew self-satisfied as he eased down the collar of his shirt, revealing rather prominent bite marks. "Let's just say a few uptight Ravenclaws might regret some things in the morning."

"Gross," Marlene muttered to herself, the distaste thick in her voice, and his sharp eyes instantly flickered over to hers. She glared. She couldn't help it—despite their overlap in friends, Sirius Black had never been someone she could particularly stomach, and it wasn't just because he'd turned her hair into mini-cobras for kicks in third year Charms.

He was, to put it bluntly, a bastard. Sure, he had his entertaining moments, but none of them were remotely enough to redeem the general way he treated people—indolently, carelessly, like vague amusements. Aside from his best mates, he didn't seem to care about much else, and for someone so often heralded the life of the party, he had a cool sense of detachment about him that made everything he did seem aloof and unsympathetic.

"Marzipan," he drawled, a not-so-affectionate name he'd given her in third year when the Easter feast had misguidedly served marzipan cakes for dessert and everyone had unequivocally hated them, "everyone's favorite fun-eclipse. Tell me, how's your shit-for-brains boyfriend doing?"

If James, Peter, and Remus disliked Finnegan, then it would only be apt to say Sirius loathed him with the intensity of a thousand exploding patronuses. The two boys utterly despised each other. Rumor was it had something to do with some girl they both chased after in third year, but Marlene knew it wasn't that noble—it was a total pride thing. They were both competing for the same title.

Finn and Sirius were both notorious for the way they went through the female student body of Hogwarts, and like all things involving sex-crazed gits with the emotional breadth of flobberworms, it'd turned into something of a pissing contest over the years. Granted, they had slightly different tastes when it came to their conquests—Finn usually went for the buxom blonde whereas Sirius seemed to prefer dark and leggy—but more often than not, their 'hunting grounds' overlapped.

Hogwarts was only so large, after all.

Thus their rivalry. Marlene really didn't see what the big deal was—Sirius was the clear winner, he always had been. It was a competition of who was the bigger piece of shit, after all. She'd liked to think that Finn had slowly started rising above the whole thing while he was dating her—his first ever foray into the land of bookish brunettes—but she could see now how stupid a thought that had been.

They were the same. In fact, the only thing that made Finn marginally better than Sirius was the fact that he was honestly just dim. He didn't play mind games, he didn't premeditate his moves, he didn't even really know what he was doing—he just liked girls and went after them.

Sirius, on the other hand, knew exactly what he was doing. He was exceedingly charismatic, which made it easy to mistake all the attention he got from girls as unwitting and unintentional, but Marlene knew that was bullshit: his charm was by design. He knew how to get what he wanted when he wanted from who he wanted, and he did it with purpose, which meant that all the hearts and self-esteems and friendships he wrecked along the way were consciously acknowledged collateral damage. He just didn't care.

"Don't mention that lousy cheat," Emmeline replied with a grimace before Marlene could say anything, shuddering in disgust, and Sirius's face flooded with amusement.

"Cheat, yeah?" he goaded, eyes going smug as they strayed back to hers. "So you finally realized he's been shagging Tammy Ryde in the fourth floor broom closet for the past three weeks, then?"

Anger flashed through her like a lightning bolt, starting from her head and streaking to her toes. He knew about it and he didn't even care to say anything!? Christ, she knew they weren't the best of friends, but he could've at least told Remus or James to tell her! "You _knew?"_ she gritted out, dark eyes cutting into slits, and he arched a goading brow.

"You didn't?"

"Sirius—" James began warningly, but Sirius continued undeterred.

"Because honestly, that's far more surprising. Everyone knew. Just like everyone knew that before Tamara, it was Erin Pierce in the abandoned classroom by the dungeons, and before that, it was Cindy McLaggen in the Room of Requirement. But don't feel bad, love," he said, adopting an insincere tone of consolation, "the Cindy thing had been going on since way before you started dating, so it wasn't like he sought her out. It was more like a 'why stop a good thing' kind of deal." He smirked. "Nothing personal."

Silence followed the words.

"That was a git sodding move, Padfoot, even for you," Remus scolded under his breath after a few moments, the sudden tension in the air stilting the previously light-hearted and intimate atmosphere. Emmeline was chewing her cheek anxiously, Peter had stopped playing his guitar, and James was eyeing Remus warily, prepared for the worst.

Marlene merely stood stock still, eyes locked on Sirius's. To say that she was seeing red was an understatement. It was more along the lines of three bloody Marys, Lily's hair, Tamara's stupid lipstick, and Emmeline's six-inch stilettos all thrown into a blender and pureed— _that_ was the color clouding her vision.

She debated her next move—she could either attack Sirius like her body was itching to do, pitch an absolute fit, or insult every last square inch of him to the best of her ability. She realized her anger probably should've been directed at Finn, but she wasn't really dealing in logic at the moment—her rage was exclusively telescoped onto Sirius.

But then, out of nowhere, a wave of rationality struck her, and she realized that flipping out was exactly what he wanted her to do. He wanted her to go absolutely mental and throw a wobbler—he _wanted_ her to go rabid on him. So she had to do the exact opposite.

Thus, mustering up just about all of the willpower she had, she forced herself to push aside her rage and instead squared her shoulders, tilted her chin up, and growled, "I need a bloody drink."

Sirius's brows ticked upward, and the surprised expression instantly vindicated her. "That's the spirit!" James cheered, holding his drink up in toast, and Emmeline giggled in relief, the tense atmosphere steadily dissipating.

"No more talk of O'Reilly tonight—I don't want to hear that ruddy name even once," Remus ordered, settling back down into his lounging position with a noticeable air of relief.

"Sirius, redeem yourself and get this girl a drink," James called out, to which Marlene scoffed.

"Please, the sodding Pope couldn't redeem him—and I can get my own drink, thanks," she sniped, carefully sidestepping the sprawled out bodies as she made her way to the cooler. Her anger was far from gone, that was for sure, but for the sake of her pride, she could mask it behind testiness for the time being.

Sirius watched her with curiously amused eyes as she reached down and opened the lid, inspecting the contents for a moment before deciding on a bottle of goblin cranberry vodka. She felt his stare and resisted the urge to punch him like she'd punched Finn—he knew she was still upset. He knew it and he also knew it would only take a few more buttons to make her explode.

And it narked the hell out of her.

"Does someone have a bottle opener?" she asked, glancing around for the metal appliance or even just a wand, but before she could find one, a large hand closed over hers. She glanced up as Sirius drew the bottle in her fingers to his mouth, uncomfortably close, eyes dark and predictably smug.

"Watch and learn, McKinnon," he simpered, hooking the edge of the bottle cap along the bottom row of his teeth and cocking the bottle upwards, the fresh hiss of escaping carbon following the action. He kept the cap between his teeth as he tilted the bottle back at her, unctuous smile forming around it.

"My hero," she drawled with an irritable curl of her lip, pulling her hand from his lingering grip and taking a sizable swig of vodka. It burned all the way down her throat and she winced. "Should I bow or curtsy or what?"

He spat the cap out in a careless motion. "Normally, I'd just take a blowie behind the tree, but seeing as it's you," he smirked when she shot him a dark look, "I'll take a 'Sirius, you're the star of my absolute filthiest fantasies, and if it weren't for my inexplicable need to be a fun-sucking prude at all times, I'd fuck you senseless'."

Her glower veered into an insincere smile. "I'd rather eat my own liquefied organs."

"Well, that's one way to be unappreciative."

"Here's another— _fuck off_." And with that, she swiveled about and made her way back to her previous spot near Peter, settling down with her drink to re-join the conversation. Sirius merely rolled his eyes, muttering something about the number of cats in her future before eyeing James with a wicked gleam in his eyes—and before anyone knew it, he had collapsed onto the poor bloke's lap.

"Oof—"

"Tell me you love me, Prongs."

"Gerroff!"

"Admit it first."

"Fine, I love you!"

"With gusto, mate."

"Get the hell—"

"Does that sound sincere to you lot?" Sirius demanded to know, laughing his bark-like laugh and struggling to keep on James' lap as the latter boy attempted to shove him off.

"Nope," Peter chuckled.

"I'd give it a 2 out of 10," Remus drawled.

"Don't be mean!" Emmeline tried to scold through her giggles. "I think it was sincere enough!"

"You don't count, Em," Sirius grinned, wincing as James elbowed him in the back.

"What? Why?"

"Too nice," he gritted out, James apparently putting up quite a fight now.

"And what exactly is this?" a pointed voice asked from behind them all, and Marlene glanced over to see Lily—all of a sudden the picture of calm and poised—eyeing the scene with brilliantly amused green eyes.

"Foreplay," Marlene replied, to which Remus snorted.

"We're eloping," Sirius drawled as he reached back to ruffle James' hair lovingly, who in turn attempted to bite his hand. "Isn't it brilliant?"

"Spectacular," Lily responded, cocking her head to the side and smiling fondly at James. "You know, I always knew you swung for the other team, James. I was just humoring you all year."

"Oh, really?" James stilled, arching a sly brow and seemingly forgetting all about the obnoxious bloke in his lap as he leaned forward. "So that night when we won the Slytherin match, you were just humoring me when you—"

"Potter!" she snapped, slipping into her old habit of calling him by his surname as her face went bright crimson.

James merely smirked. "That's what I thought."

Remus rolled his eyes and James and Sirius shared smug looks, though the latter was promptly shoved off the bespectacled boy's lap in light of the redhead who was scowling quite fiercely. Lily scoffed at the gesture, stubbornly plunking down next to Marlene and ignoring James' kicked puppy look.

"Aw, c'mon—"

"No."

"Lily flower—"

"I _hate_ it when you call me that!"

"Padfoot, go sit on her lap until she hates you enough to forget she's mad at me."

"You lot are hopeless," Remus muttered as his eyes veered skyward, once again settling on the gloriously vast night sky. Many a time, Marlene had tried to pinpoint the exact emotion that filled his eyes when he stared up at the moon, but she never quite could.

"So what happened with Tamara?" Emmeline asked, blonde hair fanning out across Remus's chest as she tilted her head to look at Lily.

The redhead instantly grew hesitant. "Oh, er, I couldn't exactly find her."

Marlene noticed she was pointedly avoiding her gaze, and her suspicion sparked. "What about Finn?"

Lily bit her lip, glancing at her warily. "I couldn't find him either."

Right. So they went off together. Marlene tried not to feel the stab of anger, but it was impossible—didn't Finn care about her at _all_? He couldn't even wait thirty bloody minutes before taking off to go shag the girl she'd just found out he'd been cheating on her with? Trying to keep her anger from showing, she merely snorted dismissively, though her subsequent swig of vodka was jerky and vicious.

James, ever the showman, sensed the festive mood once again stilting and knew he had to salvage it. Thus, after a few moments of racking his brain, a slow, sly, renegade smile curled onto his lips, and his eyes darkened with mischief. "Oi," he said, calling everyone's attention, "how do you lot feel about one final round of Truth or Dare, for the sake of tradition?"

Lily instantly rolled her eyes, whereas Sirius's expression grew sly. "We've got plenty of firewhiskey left."

"And I've got my wand to swear everyone in," Peter chimed in.

"That game is so juvenile," Marlene muttered, which turned out to be a giant mistake.

Four pairs of differently colored male eyes turned to stare at her, each one glittering more brightly than the last. There was something unsettling about the wicked shades of hazel, grey, blue, and brown boring into her, and she felt herself shrinking back the slightest bit.

Sirius was the first to speak, and his voice was a low, satisfied purr: "That's because you've never played it Marauder style, love."

And so it began.

* * *

**A/N:** _I know Sirius is the worst in this but for some reason I have this super OOC git version of him stuck in my head so bear with me. Planning for lots of development ahead - I_ _expect this to be a 4-5 part series all set on the same graduation night if I move forward with it. Let me know what you guys think/if you want me to keep going with this - reviews make the world go round!_


	2. quark strange

* * *

**flavor physics  
** _quark strange_

* * *

She couldn't believe she was doing this.

Of all the stupid bloody things.

The icy water seared the bare skin of her legs and stomach, only marginally abated by the heating charm she'd cast over herself. The tips of her hair danced along the inky surface as she waded further into the Black Lake, clad only in her bra and knickers, pulled along by the magical oath she'd taken to perform her dare at the beginning of the game.

"This is mental," she gritted through chattering teeth, fists clenched tightly against her hips, water now skirting up the line of her waist. Her second dare had been downing a goblet of firewhiskey, and between that and the goblin vodka from earlier, her head was starting to spin a bit. "Completely and totally _mental_ —skinny-dipping, really? What are we, third years?"

She knew she must've looked like a complete nutter muttering to herself like she was, but she figured prancing about the lake at one in the morning in nothing but her underwear took precedence in the 'what's more mental?' competition. Honestly, the water had to be like 12 sodding degrees—she could die! "Stupid oath," she growled, cursing the fact that they had to swear in. Any resistance to complete a dare was counteracted by magical force: the oath would literally yank her through the motions if she didn't do it.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it, relax," she snapped as the spell gave a rather violent tug, unhappy with her snail-like pace. Normally there was a pretty lenient time limit for these kinds of dares, but James was such an overeager four-year-old that he'd only given her ten minutes. Impatient git.

Shivers bolted up and down her spine and she descended further into the lake, the water now licking at the band of her bra. Her eyes fell into a wince—it was best just to make this quick. "Alright," she murmured, closing her eyes tightly. "Three… two… _one_." In a flash, she dove underneath the water, dunking herself so that her entire head was submerged.

" _Bloody_ —fucking— _GAH!"_ she spluttered upon surfacing, spitting out a chunk of sopping hair and furiously wrapping her arms around herself—it was _freezing!_ Body rigid, teeth chattering, skin-like-sandpaper _freezing!_ She rubbed her hands up and down her upper arms with a ragged hiss, the pull of the oath steadily coaxing her toward the sunning rock in the center of the lake.

On warmer weekends, the girls often threw on their swimsuits and swam over to the rock, lying there for hours and chatting whilst they tanned, but that was during the day. At night, in the absence of sun, the water was dark, scary, and positively frigid, and the prospect of the rock wasn't half as appealing when she knew she had to get up and dance wildly on it in only her wet (and by extension partially transparent) knickers.

That was the other half of her dare. As if skinny-dipping wasn't bad enough.

"…terrible… can't believe… did this to you… positively vile…"

Marlene's ear pricked at the fragmented voices trailing through the air, body going rigid. _Crap_ , she thought, gaze flying about wildly. She'd purposefully picked this side of the lake because it was mostly abandoned—who in their right mind would be on the sunning rock right now?

"…not too bad, love… just my nose… can still do… with my tongue…"

A slow, swallowing feeling of horror welled through her as she recognized the Irish brogue— _no_. Fucking _no_. This had to be a bloody joke. There was no way that of _all_ people— _no!_

"…just so awful that she punched you like that! What an absolute _ogre_ , I mean really!"

"Yeah," Finn said vaguely, using the voice that meant he was too busy picturing you naked to be listening, and her heart started hammering in her chest from a mixture of mortification and rage. There was no way she was going on that rock—in her see-through freaking underwear, no less!—and dancing whilst the git she'd just caught cheating on her shagged Give-Me-A-Ryde in time with the bloody beat! " _Hell_ no!" she hissed, though the compulsion spell she was under paid her no heed as it gave a rough yank forward. "No—no, no, no, no, _no_!"

"Did you hear something?" Tammy asked, the sloppy, disgusting snogging noises that had begun filtering through the air coming to a momentary halt.

"Nah," Finn muttered, following the statement with something Tamara found much to her liking, judging from the breathy whimper it produced. Marlene fought back a gag, revulsion sweeping through her entire body—how the _hell_ had she dated this git for three months? She didn't have much time to ponder this, however, for the spell gave another violent yank, causing her to lurch forward a good three feet and loom ever closer to the rock.

"Bollocks," she whimpered, panic seizing her as she struggled against the pull. This was beyond mortifying—this was taking whatever fragment of her freshly shattered pride was left and obliterating it with a chainsaw. This was 'hey, thanks for cheating on me—now how about a show for you and the fuck buddy you regularly screw in the Potions room to enjoy?' This was bloody _torture_. _Hell_ if she was going through with this! This was—

"Think you could take any bloody longer?"

She nearly exploded out of her skin in shock at the sound of the voice behind her, whirling around in a violent splash. A large hand shot up to block the onslaught of water, obscuring a head of sopping black hair, a sharp jaw-line, and a very much naked male torso. Her eyes flashed with recognition.

" _Black_?"

"What?" he growled, muttering a slew of expletives under his breath as he rubbed the water out of his eyes. He was suspended about a foot or so away from her, floating in the water in what appeared to be nothing, and horror overtook her shock for a split-second.

"Are you _naked_?"

He scoffed. "Don't get your hopes up."

Relief coursed through her, though it was quickly replaced with accusation. "What are you doing here?"

"Blame yourself, Nana McKinnon." At her bemused look, he rolled his eyes. " _Someone_ decided to take forever to swim across the bloody lake, so people got worried. Lily sent me to make sure you hadn't done us all a favor and drowned yourself."

"How galla— _Jesus_!" she hissed as the oath gave a particularly angry jerk, yanking her backwards toward the steadily approaching rock. The rough movement shook her back into awareness, causing her briefly forgotten panic to start seeping back into her skin—Finn. Tamara. And now _Sirius_. Merlin, as if the first two weren't bad enough, now she had all three of them to deal with?

"Clearly the spell's as irritated as I am," Sirius observed, gesturing toward the rock with an impatient hand, "so just go on and get this over with. I'd rather not freeze off certain parts of my anatomy, if it's all the same to you."

She ignored him, stare anxiously straying over to the rock. Tamara and Finn had to be on the other side—she couldn't see them and their voices were muffled—but even still, she had to climb to the top and dance to complete the dare. They'd surely see her. Bollocks, this situation was just horrible.

Sirius let out a sharp sigh at her stalling. "Look, it's not some big, cataclysmic ordeal, McKinnon: just climb up there and shake your uptight little arse around for a few minutes and then you're don—"

A shrill giggle rang through the air, cutting him off and causing his ears to perk. Her body filled with dread. Wonderful. This was his cue to become the biggest git on the planet and make the situation worse.

"Is someone—"

" _Shhh_!" she snapped, surging forward and clamping a hand over his mouth in panic. His forehead furrowed, eyes sharpening with a bright sort of curiosity at the reaction, but she remained stubbornly silent: the longer she could prolong her impending mortification, the better.

"…really don't hear anything?" Tamara's voice asked, causing Sirius's expression to flicker with vague recognition, though it wasn't until Finn replied that his eyes went wide. They snapped over to hers, bright and grey and full of delight.

Her gaze was fierce. "If you have any _shred_ of humanity in you, Black—"

He dodged her hand, freeing his mouth and peering in the direction of the voices with a relishing look. "This is _priceless_."

"Keep your voice down!" she snapped in a harsh whisper, though the spell promptly gave her another rough yank, pulling her within ten feet of the rock's edge.

"Run along now, Marzipan!" he said, motioning her off with a breezy hand gesture. "I'm sure Finn and fuck buddy number 72 will love your striptease. Perhaps you can have a threesome?"

"You're seriously the world's _biggest_ prick," she seethed, though her accompanying glare was cut short as another angry yank forced her back—only five feet away now. 

"So you've said. You know, normally I'd offer to help—"

A bitter laugh cut through his words. "Please, like you of all people could fix this situation. Finn hates you even more than I— _fuck_!" Her back slammed up against the rock's edge.

"Do you really fuck that often?" His expression was all self-satisfaction and cheek, and she shot him a caustic look. "And for the record, I know exactly how to fix this situation."

She scoffed, struggling against the pull of the spell. "Right."

"Believe what you want, but I do."

"Fine, what's your brilliant plan?"

He shrugged lazily. "Shag you. Or at least, give the illusion of shagging you."

" _Wha_ —ow!" she hissed as the spell rammed her against the rock yet again, head clouding with a mixture of pain and disbelief. "What kind of rubbish plan is that?"

"A mutually beneficial one where both sides gain something."

"What could I possibly gain from that aside from an STD?" she scoffed, and he slowly arched a brow.

"An enraged ex-boyfriend, perhaps?" His tone was cool and patronizing. "One that's watching the girl who never let him past second base snog Public Enemy Number One in nothing but her knickers, as opposed to watching her dance pathetically on a rock." Her eyes slowly narrowed with comprehension, and his rolled. "People really give your brains too much credit."

She ignored the jab, mind whirring with possibilities. As much as she hated to admit it, he had a point—Finn would positively _flip_ if he found her and Sirius together. The whole idea was brilliant in an underhanded, mind-gamey sort of way, but she'd feel so low—like she was sinking to his level. Granted, cheating and manipulating-a-horrid-situation-to-your-favor were two very different things, but it didn't change the dirtiness of it.

Not to mention the idea of snogging Black made her nauseous.

"Why would you help me?" Her words were sudden and suspicious. "My humiliation is something you seem to enjoy to an infuriatingly enthusiastic degree, so why would you pass this opportunity up?"

"I never said I would."

"What? Yes, you—"

"I said I knew _how_."

Her eyes slitted, though before she could reply, the spell slammed her back against the rock yet again. " _Jesus_!"

"Don't think he's planning on helping you out, either."

She laughed hollowly at the words. "Can't say I ever thought you and Jesus would have something in common."

He shrugged. "Oh, I dunno: we both enthrall crowds, we both rebel against authority, we both have adoring followers—"

"You're also describing Hitler," she cut in irritably, and he rolled his eyes at the remark.

"Point is, you're a bit shit out of luck, love."

She stared at him for a moment, expression growing calculating. "No, I'm not."

He arched a bored brow. "Really."

" _Really_ , because the point you forgot to emphasize in your convenient little escape plan is the part where _you_ benefit," she explained, crossing her arms. "Fake shagging you gets me out of a crap situation, sure, but it also gives you a _massive_ victory over Finn that you have far too large of an ego to turn down." A brief silence followed and she shot him a cool look. "Don't act like you're the only one with leverage."

He glanced away dismissively. "So we're doing this, then?"

"What?"

"Putting on a show for your inbred troll of an ex—Merlin, keep up," he replied, eyes snapping back to hers in impatience.

"Oh—er," she hesitated, the reality of what he was proposing quickly suffusing her. Was she actually going to do this? Sink to Black of all people's level and take the conniving route? Granted, she couldn't really think of any other routes at the moment, but snogging Black? _Really_? Before she could decide for herself, however, a particularly vicious yank that sent her crashing against the rock once again did it for her. " _Gah_ , Merlin—fine! Yes, we're doing this!"

His eyebrows shot up as she swiveled about and struggled to clamber onto the rock. "Really?"

"Really!" she hissed between her teeth, pulling herself up with an embarrassingly mighty effort before turning to face him, body wracked with shivers. His lips quirked at the corners as he stared up at her. "What?"

"Cold?" he asked innocuously, stare sweeping over her chest in a pointed manner, and she promptly remembered she was only wearing her underwear. Underwear that happened to consist of an embarrassing pair of day-of-the-week panties and a white cotton bra that, upon getting soaked, had turned thoroughly beige.

She reddened in poorly concealed mortification, crossing her arms in a fluster. "Would you just hurry up?"

He chuckled darkly, wading over to the edge of the rock and pulling himself up in an effortlessly fluid motion that spoke volumes of his finesse as a Quidditch player. Her jaw set instinctively—show-off. "So," he began after righting himself, shaking the water out of his hair like a bloody dog and forcing her to recoil from the onslaught of droplets, "what's the plan?"

"Stopping that, for starters," she muttered back, wiping some of the excess water off her face.

He smiled pleasantly, entirely unapologetic. "And step two?"

She took in a deep breath, glancing over to the top of the rock and feeling an instant wave of dread wash over her. Step two… step two… what the hell _was_ step two? Something she really didn't want to do, that's what. "I guess climbing up to the top and…" she trailed off, grimacing at the mental image. Merlin, pseudo-shagging Sirius. Talk about hitting a low.

He, however, merely arched a brow. "And what?"

She shot him an acidic look. "And knitting—what do you think, Black?"

He merely stared at her for a moment before letting out a short laugh. "And going at it? That's seriously the extent of your plan?"

" _Would you keep your voice down_?" she hissed, whacking the side of his arm, though her brow promptly furrowed defensively, "And what do you mean? Of course that's the extent of my plan—what else is there?" He merely dropped his laugh to a patronizing chuckle, head shaking in amusement, and she felt her nostrils flare. "Is there something you'd _suggest_?" she gritted out.

"Yeah, actually there is: let me do the planning." Her expression soured and he shook his head. "Look, for me to get any sort of benefit out of this, O'Reilly has to think I'm giving you the shag of your life; you can't just get up there and kiss me like a bloody robot—"

"I don't kiss like a robot!" she hissed in indignation.

"Sure you don't," he said dismissively, not a shred of conviction in his voice, "but we need to sell the bollocks out of this and I'm almost positive you have no idea how to do that."

Her eyes narrowed into a defensive glare. "Of course I know how to do that."

"Really?

" _Yes_."

"Fine—moan."

"What?"

"Moan," he repeated, and she stared at him like he was crazy. "Start with something simple—say my name."

"Sirius."

He rolled his eyes. "As in _moan_ it."

"Wha— _no_!"

"Why not?"

"Because that's ridiculous!"

He shot her a pointed look. "Wow, you do know how to sell this—mental that I ever doubted you."

"Okay, _no one_ actually moans out names like that when they're snogging in real life," she countered, dropping her hands to her hips, but they were promptly displaced by the pair of arms that gripped her hips and yanked her forward in a rough motion. " _Wha—_ "

"Mar," he groaned, voice a husky grind against her ear as he pulled her flush against him, hands rough and hungry and roving all over her. Her pulse instinctively tripped at the hot breath on her neck and the way his body completely swallowed hers, skin on wet skin, all friction and heat and clenching fingers. " _Fuck_ , Mar," he rasped again, mouth hot and desperate against the shell of her ear, and something about the raggedness, the rawness, the uncontrollable _want_ in his voice as he said her name had her totally disoriented.

Until he promptly pulled away, that is. "Get it now?"

She blinked. And shook her head slightly. "I _—_ somewhat," she said begrudgingly.

"Brilliant—moan for me."

Frustration shot through her. "Why are you so obsessed with—"

" _McKinnon_."

She bit back the rest of her comment, curling her fingers into grudging fists. "Fine." She closed her eyes as he stared at her impatiently, attempting to swallow her embarrassment, and then, " _Mmmm… Sirius, you're so… er… good._ "

She cracked an eye open to gauge his reaction. It was flat. "You're so, er, good," he repeated, entirely deadpan. "Wow."

"Sod off, I'm trying," she snapped in a whisper, crossing her arms over her chest, and he sighed.

"Go again."

"Fine." She closed her eyes once again, desperately trying to channel the inner vixen she seriously doubted she had, until a distant voice suddenly sliced through her thoughts.

"It's getting late—maybe we should head back." Tamara. Their ambient snogging noises had stopped. Marlene's eyes lit up with hope—were they leaving? Could it be?

Finn muttered something in return that she couldn't make out, though her brief bout of optimism deserted her when the lip smacking noises promptly recommenced. _Damn_ it. And as if that wasn't bad enough, the magic of the oath was starting to flare up again—it seemed to have relaxed once she'd gotten out of the water, but apparently that had been temporary because she was beginning to feel the pull.

"We've got to hurry this up," she murmured to Sirius, whose lips immediately curled.

"Can't take the anticipation?"

She turned to glare at him. "Try I'm under oath and your idiot of a best mate needs to give more realistic time limits." He opened his mouth to say something but a sudden tug sent her stumbling backwards, cutting him off. She reached out and steadied herself in a few staggering steps, cursing under her breath and shooting him an exasperated look. "Can we please just wing this?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Fine." With a brief glance at the peak of the rock, he waltzed over to the edge and pulled himself up, starting the short climb it took to get to the top. His body was a dewy ripple of hard edges and sharp sinews as he moved in the moonlight, clad only in a dark pair of sopping wet boxers, and she observed this with a look of mild disinterest.

It wasn't that he wasn't physically attractive, because he was, phenomenally so—she would openly admit that with no qualms whatsoever. It was more so that, over the past seven years, it'd sort of become expected of him. Kind of like a 'duh—it's Sirius' sort of deal: of course he was good-looking, that was the sodding formula. It was never surprising or even very rare to see him half-naked, as his countless sexual exploits and general proclivity toward exhibitionism often left him in various states of undress around the castle, and, as expected, his body was every inch as aesthetically pleasing as everyone knew it would be.

No surprises, just… expected—and when something expected happens, it makes far less of a mark on people than something unexpected. After so many years of being exposed to him, Marlene was pretty desensitized: his good looks were obvious, mundane, a given, really. And it wasn't just her that felt that way—she remembered when people used to scramble to catch a glimpse of him peeling his kit off after a hard Quidditch practice or waltzing out of a broom closet with his clothes half-on. Now they barely looked up from their conversations. A casual glance, an appreciative flit of the eyes over his leanly muscled build, and they were back to gossiping about Dorcas Meadows' awful nose job.

Sirius was fit, everyone knew it, no need to make a fuss, the end.

Although lately, Marlene was starting to think it was more than overexposure working against his wow-factor. Sure, she wasn't his biggest fan, so she was likely biased, but a few months ago, her and Emmeline had stumbled upon the theory of the depreciating asset. It'd come about during one of their many discussions on Remus Lupin, or more specifically, the pretty blonde's unexpectedly growing fascination with him despite the fact that she'd never found him attractive before.

After hours of talking, and as a result of Emmeline coming from a family of economists, they'd come to the conclusion that Remus was an appreciating asset: someone who gained value over time. The more you got to know him, the more attractive he became—you started to notice things like his crooked half-smile and how, despite the famed wit of his friends, he was actually the funniest of the four. He accumulated interest over time, and that's why Emmeline had never noticed it before.

Conversely, Emmeline's die-hard crush on Sirius in third year was the exact _opposite_ kind of attraction: immediate and overwhelming, an all-consuming blast of pure, unadulterated fascination that shot through her the moment she saw him step foot on Platform 9 ¾, tanned and tall after a summer away, that proceeded to gradually burn out over time. This was because, Marlene had reasoned, Sirius was a _depreciating_ asset. Falling for him was love at first sight—he was the most attractive he was ever going to be in that first lightning bolt moment you laid eyes on him. Over time, however, he lost value: the glow faded, you got used to his looks and charisma, and all that was left behind the aura of perfection was an aloof prick with family issues who was probably cheating on you with your friend.

"It's awfully lonely up here, love," a wry voice called, snapping her out of her thoughts, and she glanced up to see Sirius standing on the top of the sunning rock with his arms crossed, suggestive expression dancing over his features. The look threw her at first, though she promptly realized that Tamara and Finn could see him now.

He was acting.

"Care to make the view a little more scenic?"

She racked her brain for something flirty to say, coming up with, "Uh, sure" as she started to clamber up. She heard faint rustling sounds coming from the other side as she neared the top and figured Tamara and Finn were hastily throwing their clothes back on—God, the thought made her blood boil all over again. How many times had she been cheated on by that wanker? Five? Fifty? Five hundred? On second thought, she really didn't want to know.

"Uh, sure?" Sirius mocked under his breath as she reached the top, holding out his hand and hoisting her up in a swift motion.

"What was I supposed to do, giggle?" she replied in a harsh whisper, though her glare promptly dissolved in surprise as his hands slipped around the bare skin of her waist and pulled her toward him.

"You want me to what?" he all but purred, palms easing to the small of her back and pressing her flush against him. Without giving her a chance to react, he dropped his head down to the crook of her neck and nuzzled it languorously, taking care to murmur, "Giggle now."

She immediately started laughing, unsure of what else to do, but the sound was tinny and forced and betrayed the sudden nerves that had swept over her body.

He, too, laughed, chuckling out something sly she couldn't make out before dropping his voice into a disbelieving murmur. "Jesus, McKinnon, are you a human or a chipmunk?"

"Sorry, but a little warning would be nice!"

"Fine, _warning_ : I'm going to kiss you."

And without giving her any time to process, his mouth descended upon hers, swift and surprising and not unpleasantly warm given the frigid evening surrounding them. He slid a hand up to angle her face toward his, lips moving against hers with a thoughtless confidence, and for a moment, she objectively noted how much better of a snog he was than Finn.

And then she realized that she had no reason whatsoever to keep that opinion to herself. "God, you're so much better at this than Finn ever was," she all but yelled between kisses, resisting the urge to glance over the edge of the rock for Finn's reaction, but it turned out to be unnecessary—Sirius' mouth was back on hers almost instantly and all attention was diverted.

"Did you—was that—" a muffled Irish brogue stuttered from below, followed by the sound of hasty footsteps clambering over rocky terrain, and an electric sort of vengeance began charging through her veins—this was it. This was her moment. Fueled by her impending vindication, her hands slid up into Sirius' hair, fisting the silky strands tightly as she starting kissing him a little more heatedly.

She'd bloody sell it, alright.

"Sirius," she attempted in a voice that admittedly sounded only slightly less ridiculous than her last attempt, dipping her head back as his mouth began to descend down her throat, "God, Sirius, don't stop."

He hoisted her up by the thighs in a disorienting motion and murmured a smug "wasn't planning on it" against her mouth before swiftly recapturing it with his. She stiffened at the intimacy of the new position, knowing full well that he was just trying to cross lines and rile her up, but after a stilted moment, she decided to give him a run for his sodding money—she was sick and tired of not having control over anything tonight, damn it. She hooked her ankles tightly around his waist and crossed her arms hard around his neck, kissing him back with a sudden, newfound abandon, and against all odds, it actually seemed to take him by surprise.

He faltered for a second, grip loosening a bit on her thighs. A warm thrill bloomed through her at the hesitation—was she, Nana McKinnon, Kisses-Like-A-Robot-McKinnon, _Marzipan_ McKinnon, actually throwing the class lothario off? Snagging the unsnaggable? Flapping the unflappable?—and it blended rather potently with the spiraling sense of revenge burning through her veins: every crunch of gravel brought Finn closer to finding them.

Every step closer made her borderline assault on Sirius's mouth intensify.

So much so that she might've accidentally bit him.

_Hard._

He hissed shortly and pulled back a few inches, heated stare snapping up to hers in disbelief. There was a metallic glint of blood on his bottom lip. She schooled her face into an innocent expression, feigning sincerity _—_ her robot setting must've malfunctioned. "Whoops."

Vexation flooded his face, though the emotion promptly mixed with something else—something sinister and suspiciously akin to a glimmer. Her brow furrowed, but then, in a movement so swift she hadn't even registered it, her bra was unhooked and threatening to slip off her shoulders. Her stare immediately snapped up to his, wide with intermingled shock and outrage, and he merely slid his tongue over his bottom lip to wipe away the blood.

"Whoops."

They held each other's stare for a moment, his dark with self-satisfaction, hers caught between anger and a strange, kindling need to one-up him, and for a brief, flickering moment, she forgot all about Finn.

That is, until his strangled cry of outrage broke the silence.

" _What the fucking hell is this_!?"

Both heads turned to look at the livid Slytherin standing at the edge of the peak. His face was twisted with the helpless kind of rage that she'd experienced mere hours earlier, and an instant surge of vindication swept through her.

 _That's right. How does it feel, you git?  
_  
"Lo, O'Reilly," Sirius drawled in an insouciant manner, the hand on her back idly coasting up her bare skin to play with the tips of her dark hair. She barely felt it, gaze rooted on Finn, not wanting to miss a single moment of his reaction.

His wild gaze swung over to hers. "What the bloody _fuck,_ Marly—"

"Do _not_ ," she snapped, her anger reawakening at the sound of the nickname. "Maybe no one told you, but you kind of lose the right to pet names when you cheat on someone."

"I didn't—!"

A loud, barking laugh from Sirius cut through his protest. "Please don't tell me you're actually going to try and deny it," he said, humor dancing in his eyes, "because that's just insulting. Not everyone's as astonishingly thick as you are."

"Fuck off, Black," Finn seethed, fingers clenching into furious fists, and Sirius merely smirked, dropping his head to nuzzle her neck in a languorous manner.

"Rather fuck your girlfriend, mate."

"Sirius, stop," Marlene muttered darkly, not in the mood for putting on a show anymore, but he ignored her and began kissing his way up her throat. " _Black_ —"

But before she could finish her growl of disapproval, a gruff pair of arms clamped around her from behind and all but ripped her out of his grip, the violent motion accompanied by a roar of testosterone-fueled rage. "She was my territory, you fucking tosser!" In a rough movement, Finn tossed her to the side, forcing her to stagger to a wobbly halt as he began to advance on Sirius.

Her gaze snapped to his retreating frame in shock, eyes bright with a disbelief that was quickly spiraling into outrage— _his territory_? Like some bloody stop sign he'd pissed on? Where they in the 1800s?

" _Oi!"_ she snapped, hastily hooking her bra back up and cursing Sirius for having undone it, "I am _not_ —!"

He rounded on her with a ferocity that sent her stumbling back a few steps, grabbing her face in a rough motion and forcing it up to his. " _You,_ I'll deal with _later_."

Shock rippled through her. No one had ever spoken to her like that in her entire life, _least_ of all him. The Finn she knew was a cute, harmless, occasionally sleazy dolt, not the snarling threat sneering down at her like a Death Eater. Unable to speak for a moment, she merely stared at him in disbelief, chin trapped within the painful grip of his hand. And then, in one fell swoop, the blinding blast of fury hit.

And it hit _hard_.

 _Crack_!

" _Fuck_!" he cried, staggering backwards in pain, and for a moment, she honestly believed she was the one that'd hit him. It wasn't until she'd processed that her hand hadn't moved and Black was in front of her that she realized she was mistaken.

"You alright?" Sirius demanded, briefly tilting her chin up to examine her face, and she smacked his hand away in a spiraling fit of anger.

"I'm fine," she snapped, furious glare telescoping onto Finn, " _he_ , however, is about to get dis-bloody- _membered_." She pushed Sirius out of the way to storm over to Finn, rage curling through her in fiery tendrils, but Sirius promptly caught her around the waist and eased her back behind him.

"Let me handle this, McKinnon."

Her eyes snapped up to his in outrage. " _No_!"

"O'Reilly's a brute, he can hurt you."

"And I can hurt him!" she shot back, once again attempting to shove him out of the way, but he stubbornly remained in her way. Her eyes snapped into slits, her anger with Finn spilling over into anger with him. " _Look_ , I don't know where this sudden sense of gallantry is coming from, pal, but I'm more than capable of handling this myself!"

"I'm sure you are, _pal_ , but I can't just let you march into a fight with a mouth-breathing moron who's twice your size," he bit back, starting to get a bit frustrated with her, and she shot him a withering look.

"How chivalrous, coming from the guy who averages at least three people crying over how shitty he's treated them a _week._ "

He rolled his eyes at the comment. "That's different."

"Oh, yeah?" she countered, taking a heated step closer. "Well, how about this: next time you feel like playing knight-in-shining-armor, _don't fuck with people's feelings,_ because _breaking friggin' news_ : the emotional blow hurts a hell of a lot more than a punch to the face ever could. Now _move_!" She lifted her arms to shove him, but just as she was about to, her eyes caught on Finn's enraged first hurtling toward him. " _Sirius_!"

But it was too late—Sirius turned around just in time to get slammed in the face, sending him staggering to the side in complete disorientation.

"Think you can just punch me and get away with it, you shit!?" Finn roared, already moving in to hit him again, but Sirius rallied quickly and shoved him back, directing the fight a few feet away from her.

"Guys!" she yelled, marveling at the fact that watching two people fight over her was nowhere near as glamorous as people made it out to be—particularly because it wasn't even her they cared about, it was their bloody 'territories'. "Stop!"

Naturally, they paid her no attention, lost in a mess of crunching fists and lunging bodies, and she buried her head in her hands—could this situation get any bloody worse?

"Finn! Sirius! Oh, my God, what's going _on_?"

Apparently it could.

"What did you do!?" Tamara shrieked at her from across the rock, eyes filled with poisonous hate, and Marlene's glare blazed with a sudden outrage.

"What did _I_ do?" she choked out, pointing to herself. "You've been shagging my boyfriend for the past three weeks and you're asking me what did _I_ bloody—what are you— _oi_!" she cried, ducking to avoid the handful of pebbles the girl had just hurled at her. "Wha—are you sodding _kidding_ me!?"

"No!" Tamara cried, reaching down and grabbing another handful, "I'm not sodding kidding you, but you know what I _am_!?" she screeched, chucking the stones with rather remarkable aim and causing Marlene to duck yet again in a flustered frenzy. "I'm _sick_ and _tired_ of you ruining tonight for me! Finn's _mine_ now—get it through your thick head!"

"Merlin, Tamara, quit with the stoning!" Marlene cried as another spray of gravel rained down on her, bringing her hands up to protect her face—weren't Hufflepuffs supposed to be bloody _nice!?_

"I'll quit when I want to!" she jabbed back, grabbing up yet another handful of gravel with her talons and heaving it at Marlene. The latter ducked yet again, though this time one of the pebbles managed to scrape the exposed skin of her stomach. A stinging sensation flooded her nerves. She glanced down and saw a thin line of blood.

 _Oh_ , no.

Absolutely bloody _not_.

"Alright, that is _it,_ " Marlene snapped, shooting to her feet and stalking across the rock in furious strides, but a renegade hand flew out and caught her arm about halfway across. Her wild-eyed gaze landed on a pair of exasperated grey eyes and tapered dangerously. " _Sirius_ ," she hissed, voice thin and dangerous, "let. Me. _Go_."

"Out of curiosity," he said irritably, ignoring her command, "exactly how many fights are you planning on initiating toni— _oof_!" he reeled back a bit, wincing at the elbow she'd buried into his stomach, and she took the opportunity to break free of his grasp.

She stopped short, however, when she saw that Finn had restrained Tamara in a similar fashion, holding the rabid blonde back from lunging at her. "Let her go, Finn!" Marlene called out, scowling fiercely at the two people who had so catastrophically ruined this night for her.

"Yeah, let me at her, baby," Tamara snarled, squirming ridiculously in his grip, eyes wild and nine different kinds of psychotic. "I'm going to claw her bloody eyes out!"

"No one's clawing anyone's eyes out," a vexed voice said from behind Marlene, and before she knew it, Sirius had each of her wrists in his hands. She almost choked out a laugh—what, he was a pacifist now? He and Finn could beat each other to a bloody pulp and it was fine but her and Tamara took so much as a _step_ toward each other and they had to be restrained? The hypocrisy was enough to set her blood on fire.

She fought violently to break free, hands struggling against the clamp of his fingers, but he folded her arms across her stomach and pulled her back against his chest. "Give it up, McKinnon."

"I swear I'm going to _kill_ you," she gritted out furiously.

"You can do that later," he replied nonchalantly, "but in the meantime, you might want to avoid squirming around too much—your bum's up against a rather responsive area, you see." Disgust flooded her immediately, though the words achieved the desired effect: she was still as a statue within seconds. "Brilliant, thanks."

"Pig."

"I prefer dog."

"Pig," she repeated without hesitation, and he sighed.

Still hot with anger, she glanced back at Tamara and Finn only to find the former stalking away from the latter. "…not going to let me kill her then I don't want that bitch _anywhere_ near me!" she was in the middle of declaring, tottering to the edge of the peak in a huff. "Hoity-toity little maneater is all that judgy cow is!" Marlene nearly choked in outrage— _maneater? Her_?—but Sirius' tight hold prevented her from doing anything about it. "C'mon, Finn, we're leaving!"

The Slytherin looked far less inclined to leave, face bloodied up and volatile eyes trained on Sirius's, but Tamara's impatient hand flung out and grabbed him by the collar, yanking him behind her. "This isn't over, Black," he growled, pointing at him with a menacing expression as he followed behind Tamara.

"Actually, seeing as this is our last night at Hogwarts, I'd say it probably is," Sirius replied with a casual, what-can-you-do shrug, taking care to rest his cheek against Marlene's in an affectionate manner that screamed 'I won'. "Safe travels, mate."

Finn jerked angrily, ready to lunge back into a fight, but Tamara screeched an ear-splitting ' _now_!' that made him balk and, with a final grudging look at the pair of them, climb off the edge after her.

Marlene disentangled herself from Sirius the moment they disappeared, whirling around to face him with every intention of smacking him upside the head. Unfortunately, the series of cuts and bruises coloring his skin immediately squandered her resolve, making her brow furrow clinically. "You're hurt."

"I'm fine— _ow_!" he exclaimed, jerking away from the hand that she'd poked a bruise on his chest with and staring up at her in disbelief.

She arched a brow. "Fine?"

"Yeah, assuming there aren't any sadists who like to prod my wounds loitering around," he retorted, rubbing the sore spot irritably.

She ignored the response, glancing over her shoulder to the spot Finn and Tamara had just vacated and shaking her head with a harassed look. "That was a complete disaster."

He shrugged idly. "Not from my perspective."

"You got punched in the face," she said, rolling her eyes. "In what world does that qualify as a success?"

"The one where I managed to get the one thing O'Reilly ever had over me and rubbed it in his face," he replied, lips quirking into a smirk.

She shot him an irritated look. "First of all, you never _got_ me—he just thinks you did, and second of all, I wasn't the only thing he had over you."

"Actually, you pretty much were."

She scoffed. "Please, there were plenty of girls he hooked up with that you didn't."

"Yeah, but none of them were you."

Her brow furrowed at the remark, though before she could ask what it meant, a strange feeling started buzzing through her body. It was jerky and light, growing in intensity with every passing second, and she promptly found that she couldn't stand still. "Do you feel that?"

Sirius arched a brow. "What?"

"This—this bouncy feeling," she replied, starting to fidget with nervous energy. "Merlin, it feels like someone just put a tantallegra curse on—" her voice cut off as a horrifying realization dawned on her. It seemed to hit Sirius at the same time, for his lips slowly lifted into one of the most infuriating smiles she'd ever seen, eyes brightening with a metallic sort of smugness.

"McKinnon," he drawled, tone the epitome of nonchalance, "you haven't danced yet, have you?"

* * *

_**A/N:** I genuinely can't believe I'm writing this tropey of a fic y'all I blame quarantine. This chapter pretty much devolved into chaos but hopefully the fun kind 😂 Drop a line if you can and let me know what you think!_


End file.
